Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Kosovo and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Bobby Hutcherson to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
The Leaves,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Simply Red,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marc Almond,
Arcadia,
Eric Dolphy,
The New Christs,
Fela Kuti,
Darondo,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Alarm Clocks,
MC5,
Parry Music,
T.S.O.L.,
Flipper,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Steve Hackett,
Tom Boy,
Faust,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Livin' Joy,
Funkadelic,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Brick,
Pierre Henry,
Marmalade,
New Age Steppers,
The Durutti Column,
Lungfish,
Todd Terry,
Dead Boys,
the Soft Cell,
Minnie Riperton,
The Blues Magoos,
Yaz,
The Happenings,
H. Thieme,
Desert Stars,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jesper Dahlback,
Brand Nubian,
Popol Vuh,
Pole,
Cal Tjader,
Slick Rick,
Peter & Gordon,
Soul Sonic Force,
Grauzone,
Tomorrow,
Agitation Free,
Unrelated Segments,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Joyce Sims,
Pussy Galore,
John Holt,
Joy Division,
UT,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.